Weekend At Criss's
by Ara Grey
Summary: The tables are turned as Melanie meets Criss Angel in his city and has to play by his rules... find out what they really think of each other!
1. Are You Alright?

Wow... you guys are saints for forgiving me when I said this would be up by September. After some serious soul searching and a bunch of marching band competitions, I finally found the time to start this sucker. And for all your romantics out there... rejoice. I'm feeling the need for a romantic twist, even though it goes against my moral values as a fanfic writer. Whatever... ENJOY! And thank you!

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- Chapter One – Are You Alright? -

I don't know why I still have this crumpled note.

I take it with me everywhere I go—the pool, the grocery store, the gym, wherever. And today was no exception, considering that I just ventured from my dinky little house in Texas all the way to fabulous Las Vegas. It's always sitting in my purse, or when I'm nervous, in my hand. The words that once shone boldly on the memorandum were now faded and illegible. But for some reason, this treasure was one of the only reasons I didn't want to come to Vegas.

I only came to the city of gambling because of a cousin's wedding. I reminded myself of this as I flung a card containing her address onto the floor of my rental car, a fancy black Lexus. I didn't have to see her until later tonight for her bachelorette bash, so I had the day to myself to do whatever a girl on The Strip wants to (Jeez that sounds awkward.).

I pulled into the parking garage of the Luxor. As I did so, my stomach did a back flip and I clenched my fists around the steering wheel tightly, the faded note crunching under the pressure of my hand. Thankfully, I found a decently close spot in only a matter of seconds. I pulled in carefully and then stopped the car quickly, as if not to draw attention to myself. Stepping out of the car, I slung my messenger bag across my chest and adjusted my tank top in hopes of looking a bit more presentable, something not easily accomplished when it's windy outside and your hair is flying everywhere.

Leaving my bags in the trunk, I began walking slowly to the entrance of the grand hotel that I'd heard so much about. The only sounds that could be heard were my Doc Martens on the concrete. As I made my way closer to the doors granting me entry into the vast pyramid, I became aware of a second set of foot steps not too far away. I stopped and looked around to find myself staring at a shabby looking man in a tattered sports coat smiling at me.

"Excuse me, miss," the man said curtly. "Can I help you with your bags?"

"Er," I replied quickly, mentally noting that I had no bags other than my purse. "No thank you."

I walked past him abruptly and quickened my pace. However, the stranger grabbed my arm and held me close to his body, this time meaning business. I could smell his foul breath and felt the pressure in my arm building up from his tight grip.

"I'll ask one more time. Your bag, please."

"Get away from me, jerk!"

The mugger grabbed my purse and tried to rip the strap, but he was delayed by the skilled craftsmanship I put into making that bag extra durable. However, the more he pulled, the closer he was to gaining victory…

"HEY!" shouted a mysterious new voice.

My knees gave way and I collapsed on to the ground, landing on my side, eyes shut tight. I could hear the sounds of grunts and the cries of a fight going on. Someone got punched. Someone was slapped. Someone hit the concrete. Silence.

Then I felt the gentlest touch on my arm.

"Hey," whispered my rescuer, "Are you alright?"

I lifted my head and pulled my hair back. Opening my eyes, my jaw hit the ground faster than a speeding bullet.

"Melanie!" he replied, hugging me tight to his chest. My savior was none other than the king of illusion himself, Criss Angel. Also known as the man who left me a stupid note that partially dragged me out here, Criss looked the same as I'd seen him last. Same old shoulder length hair, highlighted with red now, Affliction garb, and shiny jewelry that outshone every star in the sky. His smile was ridiculously wide; almost as if he'd just found out that he was related to Houdini or something.

But for some reason, I lost all angry feelings I had towards him. I'll admit that I've been a bit affronted with anything associated with him ever since our weekend last summer. Yet being with him now made a world of difference. Gone were the malicious feelings. Now, I felt flooded with pure joy and comfort.

"Hey!" I blurted out, just as surprised and cheerful as he was. "You still smell like cookies."

Criss laughed. "You're still as insane as ever. Why didn't you ever call?"

I stared at him blankly.

"Didn't you notice my number programmed into your phone?"

"No… It's been there all this time?" I replied, cocking an eyebrow.

"Yes," he answered, folding his arms across his chest. "Caption Oblivious."

"Oh, shut up." I said playfully, pushing him slightly.

This was probably one of the most awkward situations I've ever found myself in. Not only did I once find this meticulous magician sprawled across my sidewalk, but here I am, running into him again under the strangest circumstances! Well, I'm on his turf now, so that tables have been turned on me.

"So," Criss began, shifting his weight, "What're you doing here in Las Vegas?"

"Oh, nothing much." I replied nonchalantly. "Wedding. Not mine, of course. My cousin's."

"So you're staying here?"

I nodded and shrugged. "What can I say? I knew I'd run into you at some point."

He laughed and caught me in a one armed hug. My escort walked me into the hotel and to the front desk so that I could pick up my room key. An acne-laden teen was sitting at the computer, typing away at the speed of light. When he saw me and Criss, he jumped slightly and smiled shyly.

"W-welcome to the Luxor," he stammered, then turned to Criss. "Good afternoon, Mr. Angel."

Criss merely smiled and nodded. "Melanie Evans would like to pick up her keys."

"Let's see…" the boy started, looking at his screen. "Two nights, no requests, correct?"

"Yeah."

"Alright," he said, "Good to go. You're in room 1196. Have a great stay with us!"

He handed me my room card and I couldn't help but laugh. Next to the pyramid, there was Criss's face and tag line on my key. I bet he totally had some secret stash of them up in his room, sort of like that joke he pulled at the Aladdin.

"Hey, where are your bags?" Criss asked me as we walked through the atrium and to the elevators.

"In my car. I'm too lazy to haul them in."

"Figures," he grunted.

We shuffled into the empty elevator and pressed my floor's button. Recently, I've been much more relaxed about riding these once terrifying boxes of transportation. I tried to stuff my key into my pocket, but in the process Criss's letter slipped from my hand and floated down to the floor. He bent down to pick it up, but paused when he saw my name sprawled across the page in a familiar handwriting.

"Mel…" Criss started softly, staring at the paper. Clearly it had hurt him, too.

"I know, I know." I sighed, scooping it up quickly and stashing it in my purse. "It's a part of me now."

"Listen," he said nervously as we stepped out of the elevator, "I'm sorry for the mad dash. It was hard for me to say goodbye…"

"Don't," I replied sweetly. "I would have felt the same way."

We smiled at each other awkwardly and walked side by side in search of my room.

_I can't deny it..._


	2. Big Boom!

Hey kids... I've got nothing to important to say, other than I'm finally feeling the creative juices again. HAPPY TURKEY DAY!

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- Chapter Two – Big Boom! –

"Hey," I started, breaking the awkward silence that walking brought upon us, "Do you mind if I just sort of hang out and take a nap for awhile? Plane trips really suck."

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Sure." Criss seemed as if he was staring off into space.

I slipped the plastic card into the key slot and was welcomed by the little click of entry. Upon entering, I was entranced by the lavishly decorated room; it really had the Egyptian flair that took my breath away. For just a normal room, I felt like I was staying the presidential suite… I dared not think what that must be like.

I slumped down on the cushiony bed and looked up at Criss, smiling contently. Crossing his arms, he looked around and was off in his little world while I stared at him. After what seemed like an eternity, he turned and our gazes were locked.

"I'll let you relax, now." Criss said softly. "You know where to find me… just take the elevator up as high as it goes. Only room on the top floor. You can't miss it."

I giggled and then stretched back, leaning all the way until my body was engulfed by the bed.

"Nighty night."

I heard the door close before I saw him leave. Rolling my head, the clock read noon, which meant I had seven hours until my presence was requested at the cousin's gig. A feeling of guilt swept over me… I'd done this last time. I'd rejected Criss's company to sleep. Hm… Not cool. I'll make it up to him somehow. My eyelids drooped and gently shut before I could think of anything else.

-----------

My eyes fluttered open an hour later. As I sat up, I rubbed my face and noticed, groggily, that my suitcase was brought up. That man's way too sweet for any normal person, but then again, I wonder how often friends of his fall from the sky (metaphorically, of course.). I felt like I owed him a lot more that I thought, and so it became my goal to repay him in some way for his generosity. Grabbing a small black bag out of my duffle, I ventured into the fancy bathroom and proceeded to make myself look presentable.

After a quick comb of the hair and some toothbrush action, I deemed myself good enough to go out. Slinging my trademark messenger bag over my head, I left the room in search of the Mindfreak's living quarters. I followed his excruciatingly difficult instructions, taking the elevator all the way up to the top floor. When I arrived there, the first thing I saw was a set of gigantic wooden doors with a season three poster plastered on. I was hesitant to knock… who knows if there's a meeting or something going on? But Criss did say to come up whenever, so I guess it was ok. Just as I was about to flick my wrist forward to strike the wood, the door opened and I saw, through the small crack, Criss's face.

"Melanie! So nice to see that you're alive," Criss boomed, swinging the door wide open and granting me entry. "I never thought you'd come around."

My jaw hit the floor. Sure, I'd seen clips and pieces of his suite on the show, but I never noticed just how fantastic and _huge_ the room was! It was Egyptian mixed with a chic contemporary style that I fell in love with. I couldn't help but look around like a kid in a candy store. There was a train set winding around the plants, numerous awards on the shelf, and even a bag of cat food! This place was ridiculously amazing.

"I can't tell if you've learned to clean up after yourself or if you're still lazy and use the maids," I jeered, sitting down on the black (Italian! Wow, pricey!) leather couches.

"Ha ha, very funny," Criss threw back, lounging next to me. "For your information, I'm too busy to clean up after myself."

"Oh really? Then who takes care of…" I stopped just as a cute little kitty brushed past my legs and looked up at me with adorable eyes. "Hammie! It's a pleasure to meet you."

I gently lifted the famous feline up onto my lap where he curled into an adorable little ball of fluff. I smiled as I felt a purr ripple through his body.

"I do, thank you very much!" Criss said, reaching over to scratch Hammie's head lovingly.

I felt a tinge of jealousy for Criss and his pretty kitty. I've always wanted a cat to call my own, but most of my friends are allergic to cats, which means no kitty in my house. Me? I'm a big animal lover. Except snakes. Snakes, as interesting as they are, are downright creepy.

"Well," Criss started, interrupting my train of thought, "How about we go get lunch? Then we can catch up."

"Sounds fantastic!" I replied, maybe a bit too enthusiastic.

"Great. I'll be right back," he said, heading for his bedroom door, "And try not to drool on the couch."

I threw a small, but probably pricey, pillow at him, which the martial artist stopped with the back of his hand without even looking back. He shut the door behind him quietly, leaving me in the much too large suite. Carrying Hammie with me, I inspected every little thing—what sorts of plants were growing in the vases, what each plaque and award was from, even the brands of food he had stashed in the cabinets. This all seemed to fascinate me in some way, oddly enough. You know, I wonder just how many girls would kill to be in my place. The idea made me scared, as if some giant mob of fangirls were about to jump out from behind the couch and attack me. But just to be on the safe side, I Hammie and I peered behind the furniture. Fangirl free!

After that inspection, I looked around on his large desk. Well, it would have been a desk had it not been covered in folders and notes and DVDs of all kinds. Hm. I really shouldn't be looking, but… come on! How often does a gal get behind the scenes action and a preview of the next season?!

"Exactly," I whispered to Hammie, who meowed back. "Now let's see what's in file number one!"

I flipped open the first manila folder to find a page filled with complex diagrams and notes scribbled in awkward places. These seemed to be… stunt ideas! How exciting! It looked like a motorcycle was involved, as well as a crane. Hm. Just as I began to sift through the papers some more, I heard the door open.

Like a bat out of hell, I shut the file and turned around to look at Criss, who had just returned. He looked really groovy sporting some killer Affliction jeans, a skull-covered shirt of the same brand, and a really soft looking leather jacket with his insignia all over it. Hanging from his neck was a Greek cross and handcuffs, along with his CA logo doubled around his neck. My breath was taken away for almost a second when I suddenly snapped out of it, aware that I might do something weird.

"Hammie giving you a tour of the place?" Criss said, stroking his cat's head.

I smiled and gave Hammie one last squeeze before letting him down.

"So where are we venturing off to?" I asked, drumming my fingers against my thighs.

"Eh, I've got a place in mind." He replied, clearly leaving me in the dark. "Come on, let's get going."

Criss grabbed his keys off of the counter and set his sunglasses on top of his head as we made our way out the door. We walked close; my shoulder was nearly always touching his arm. Just as I opened my mouth to say something, Criss's phone rang. Well, crap.

"Hello? Oh hey, man. Make it quick."

The guy on the phone was loud and distracting as we rode the elevator down.

"What?! No no no, I said pyro or it's off. I want a big boom!" he then turned towards me, "Sorry, Mel. Work stuff."

"No no, it's fine!" I assured softly. Criss rolled his eyes at whatever the man was saying, which made me laugh.

"Listen, you tell him again. Make sure everyone else gets the memo. Yeah. Alright. Bye."

Criss stashed his cell back into his pocket and exhaled loudly.

"Jeez, Mel." He said, using me as an armrest in a joking manner, "This business drives me crazy sometimes. I tell one person that I want something and they tell everyone else not to get me that one little thing! It's madness, I tell you!"

"Yeah, sounds pretty intense." I agreed. "Madness, alright."


	3. Hot Plans

Oh man, just wait 'til you get to the bottom. That's all I'm gonna say... CLIFFHANGER! Partially because I'm not sure how much time I'll have to update this week.

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- Chapter Three – Hot Plans –

Our journey to lunch was nearly unnoticed by the public. I guess they were just so used to seeing Criss around that they failed to be bothered by his appearance, but hey; you'd think that seeing Criss parade around with an unknown girl would stir up something. As usual, I found none of that juicy celebrity coverage stuff that you see on _Extra_ and _Entertainment Tonight_.

While I was off in my own little dreamland, Criss directed me towards a nice little café. We sat down at a small table and looked at each other. In his eyes I could see impatience, as if he was bursting to say something. He had a pleasant, but tired look across his face. I could only imagine how I compared to this masterpiece.

"I come down here when the crew is driving me crazy… it's kinda nice." Criss said, leaning his chair back so that it balanced on two legs.

"What have I told you 'bout sittin' like that?" came a loud female voice.

As soon as he heard it, Criss smiled playfully and looked up. Standing in front of us was who I deemed to be our waitress. Her round face was framed by honey colored curls that reached a little ways below her neck. The rest of her body was curvy and round; her expression full of happiness.

"Melanie, meet Jenny. She's always looking out for me." Criss beamed at Jenny and then at me.

"Hey there," Jenny said in a smooth Mississippi accent.

"Hi," I replied, not sure of what to think of the girl.

"Anyways," Jenny began, brightening up. "I keep on tellin' Criss to sit properly, but the boy never listens! Happened to my neighbor years ago. Poor boy broke his arm and was in a cast for two weeks! Criss here can't afford somethin' like that, now can he?"

"Oh come on!" Criss blurted. "You know that I've done far more dangerous things… chairs are the least of my worries."

"Mm-hm," she replied, cocking and eyebrow. "So what can I get ya'll?"

"Dr Pepper with no ice and a water," Criss said, not even stopping to ask me what I wanted. I mean, come on! I might have been craving a Sunkist or a Sprite!

Jenny nodded warmly and went off to fill our orders.

"She's a really nice girl," Criss said, watching her walk away with a swing to her hips.

"Yeah…" I replied, drifting off into a stray thought. "Hey, you look like you're about to burst. What's on your mind?"

"Huh?" He looked at me oddly, but deep down inside he knew that I was onto him.

"Oh come on, just tell me already!"

"Alright, alright! Jeez, Mel…" Criss shut me up and I listened carefully, not knowing what to expect. "Ok… so I know that you rifled through my desk and so I'm sure you saw a few pages about upcoming stunts."

"But how did you—"

"Hammie told me," Criss declared sarcastically. "Anywho, I don't know what you saw, but the phone call I was in earlier sort of gave part of it away. So what I'm saying is… would you like to be my assistant?"

"Wow, you'd pick me over the hundreds of screaming fangirls?"

"Of course."

I smiled. "So tell me more about these hot plans of yours."

Criss pulled out a pen from his coat and grabbed the nearest paper napkin. While I watched, he started scribbling a very rough sketch of what looked like a small canopy in the middle of a track. On the track, I saw a very sloppy motorcycle (Well, I guess he failed art class growing up) and what looked like a stick figure of himself. After completing his masterpiece, he sat back and let me think it over.

"Well, what can I say? It's all chicken scratch to me."

"Ugh," he sighed, picking up the pen to point at the motorcycle/stick figure. "This is me in my skin tight leather outfit that I know you secretly love, riding a motorcycle across a path of some sort, probably about forty of fifty yards, something like that. If you shift your gaze towards this lovely hut thing here over the center of the path, you'll notice it's quite blah and boring. That's where you step in."

He began to draw weird zigzags coming off of the top and the sides. Fire.

"Wait… what?!"

"Everything I'm about to tell you is top secret confidential that no one, and I mean _no one_, outside of the production team knows about and will _ever_ know about." Criss's voice dropped to a low whisper, barely audible. "The canopy is going to be showed first as being empty and normal. When I set up on my bike, someone's going to light it on fire. Not you, because… I'll get to that in a second. Anywho, as I'm riding, the fire will get bigger and bigger until it's a fiery tunnel of danger for me. And when I pop out of the other side of the empty, fire-engulfed tent thing…"

He sketched another motorcycle, only this time there were two figures on it. One of the stick people had a helmet and the other had long hair. Wait a tick…

"Oh," I muttered, a bit shocked and amazed. "And… just how am I supposed to get there?!"

"Eh," Criss began, no entirely sure of what to say, "I haven't worked that out yet. But don't worry; nothing will be a threat or hazard to you. My guys are pros at taking every precaution to make sure everyone involved comes out alive."

"But…" I started nervously, questions flooding my mind.

"Don't worry. Save the questions for later… for now, let's eat."

I didn't even notice our drinks sitting in front of us until just now. While I took a sip from the straw, Jenny came over to us, wielding a tray above her head. Wait a second! We never ordered! Or even got menus for that matter!

"I do hope you aren't a vegetarian," Jenny smiled, "Because today's special is on the house."

She set the tray down and there sat two of the most fantastic looking burgers I'd ever seen. Hot, steamy, and surrounded by French fries, my mouth was watering and I was so grateful to Jenny.

"Oh," managed to finally say, "These look absolutely amazing! Good call, Jenny!"

"Wha'd I tell you?" Criss joked, "She's always on top of things. Knows things other people don't. She's sure got a flair for food!"

The girl blushed behind her honey hair and giggled. Grabbing the large black tray, she retreated back to the kitchen to leave us in our burger heaven. Without any hesitation, I picked up the loaded burger and chomped down, savoring the delicious flavor. It was amazing, but it needed something more. While Criss watched, I grabbed some fries, stuck them on the meat patty, then squirted ketchup all over them. I placed the bun back on and proceeded with consuming my lunch. The look on the man's face was priceless. It was a… how do you describe it? One of those 'what-on-earth-are-you-doing?!' sort of stares.

But did I care? Hardly! I take pride in my mad burger eating skills. I didn't realize how famished I was until I was on the last few bites of my burger. I looked over at Criss's plate, which was pretty clean save for a few ketchup streaks and crumbs. After a very unladylike belch, I kicked back in my chair, full and satisfied. Criss and I both smiled at each other

"Wow, what's with all the rings, Mel?" Criss randomly brought up, taking notice to the jewelry on my fingers. "You taking after me or something?"

I glanced over at his diamond covered knuckles. "I like rings, I guess."

"They're all so different, though. It's like a puzzle." Criss stared at me intently.

"Well, this one on my thumb my best friend bought for me at a Renaissance faire last summer," I pointed to the moon and star wrapped around my left thumb. "And these two, the wave band and the fluer de lis crown on my middle fingers, were gifts from my dad. Oh, the one on my pinky, the one with the bat on it, that one's from my middle school crush."

"What about the flowery one?" Criss inquired, pointing to my ring finger.

This one was my favorite of them all. Silver with a crystalline rose catching the light beautifully.

"It's from my…" I began, looking down.

Criss stared at me with a puzzled look on his face.

"Fiancé."

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DUN DUN DUUUUUUN! What now, readers? Tell me what you think!


	4. Flesh and Fire: Not Cool!

Ha ha, you should have read yall's reactions... I was laughing for days. Hm, this one is sort of just... eh. Maybe you'll find it funny. Dunno. Thanks to my loyal readers who yell at me to update! But seriously, guys... give me some ideas! XD

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- Chapter Four- Flesh and Fire—Not Cool! –

Criss stared at me in utter disbelief. He was shocked, amazed, and… hurt? Maybe, but he was adorably funny all the same.

"Kidding!" I teased, laughing crazily, "Come on! Do you really think I would be getting married? As if."

I found the wild prank hilarious. Criss, however, did not. With a dull face, he placed a ten dollar bill on the table as he stood up and walked away, fuming. I grabbed my bag and caught up to him, tossing my arms around his waist (Ooh, someone's been working out!) and not letting go. The boy was acting like a baby!

"Oh please," I pleaded in a childish tone, "It was just a silly little joke. I'm sorry if I sunshined on your rainy parade. You'll forgive me, right?"

After a while, he finally looked me in the eye, a small smile trying to break free.

"If I don't, I'll be one assistant short."

"Oh, thank you!" I squeezed my arms in a rib crushing hug.

"Hey hey hey," Criss exclaimed, peeling my arms away from his body, "I don't want people to be getting the wrong idea."

Of course_ you_ don't. My arms returned to their normal swinging motion while Criss walked with his arms in his pockets. We were heading back to the elevators, back upstairs, and to the top floor.

"What're we doing here?" I inquired. Man, I really wanted to get out and see the Strip! But that'll have to wait until tomorrow, I guess.

"Just a little meeting." Criss answered, vague as ever.

"Meeting?' I repeated, watching him unlock the door and hold it for me.

"Yes, now get in!"

I followed his orders and walked into the main sitting area of his suite. Meeting?! Hell, this was an actual, real life, professional Mindfreak production meeting! No way… There was Costa and JD, John Farrell, Jennifer Peterson, and the rest of the crew. The camera and lighting guys were chilling, as well as some folks typing away at the speed of light on Macs. I recognized a lot of the faces, but knew none of the names.

"Excuse me? Who are you?" a man asked. This man was unfamiliar… he looked tough.

"I-uh-well," I stammered, a little scared.

"No no, it's ok! She's with me," Criss said, suddenly appearing behind me. "Sorry, key got stuck in the door. I'd like you all to meet Melanie."

I received nods, greetings, and murmurs from all around the room. I definitely felt way uncomfortable.

"Uh, hi," I finally got out one my voice came back.

"Who is she?" Costa asked, eyeing me over in attempts to figure out some mystery.

"A friend. Remember last summer when I went MIA for a weekend? Yeah, I was hanging out with this little lady. Ha ha, I never told you we were in Texas!" Criss laughed, winking at me when no one was looking. "She's going to be my assistant for tomorrow's demonstration."

"Hell!" I exclaimed, my heart racing ninety miles an hour. "After what you told me today… I'm doing this tomorrow? What?!"

"You told her?" someone said.

"Of course," Criss replied flatly, picking up Hammie from off of the floor.

"But…" I thought out loud, "How the hell am I supposed to appear out of no where?"

"Don't worry, Melanie." JD said, "Calm down. We'll explain. Just sit back and relax for a moment."

Now I was really freaking out. If I'm supposed to appear out of the flaming wood, how do I get in it to start? Uh, hello? Human flesh and fire—not cool! What was Criss and his team _thinking_? And why did I agree to do this?

"Alright," someone unfamiliar to me began. "Now that Criss is here, we can go over some final things. Which bike are you using?"

"The '06 Count's." Criss replied, stroking the cat in his arms.

"You sure?" the man questioned, "If something was to go wrong…"

"Nothing's going to go wrong."

Criss was so sure of the smoothness of his stunt that it made me nervous. I kept on getting chills every time someone brought up something that sounded dangerous or scary. After about twenty minutes of confusing and boring talk, JD turned to me with a notepad.

"Let's see here," he began, skimming down the page. "So you want to know how you're going to survive tomorrow?"

"Dear God, yes," I pleaded, my eyes full of fear. "Please make it as painless as possible."

"Mel's a pansy," Criss whispered loudly to the people around him.

"Am not!" I retorted, chucking a pillow at him. Sadly, it missed his head by inches.

"Enough of your fighting, kids," JD intervened, "Alright, so we've decided that the best thing to do in this situation is to drug you."

"WHAT?!" I exploded, my eyes surely the size of Jupiter. "What do you mean by drugging me? And explain this _situation_!"

Criss was laughing silently while everyone watched me intently. He knew that I was going to freak, that sly little demon, but then again, I guess this was payback.

"Mel, Mel," Costa said softly, "Calm down. Relax."

"The situation is you. You are an untrained assistant in a dangerous area and we don't want to run the risk of injuring you or anyone else."

I remained silent.

"So we plan on using a completely safe knock out gas that is no different from what is used at your dentist's office."

"Well, if you put it like that…" I trailed off, nervously.

"You'll be completely fine," JD reassured. "You'll wake up right when you should."

"And that would be?"

"That," Criss piped in, "Is a surprise. I don't want any of you guys telling her."

The way Criss sneered at me made me want to stick my tongue out at him, but that seemed like a strange thing to do in a professional meeting surrounded by an audience. I let the notion depart, but the disgusted expression remained on my face. When was this war going to end?

"What's left to discuss?" Criss tossed out lazily.

"Eh, some camera angles and last minute structure changes."

"Bo-ring," Criss complained, setting Hammie down on the carpet. "Enough of this. Mel and I are going out. Call if you need me."

He stood up and escorted my shaking body over to the door.

"Are all meetings like this?" I inquired warily to the magician at my side.

"You ain't seen nothin' yet."


	5. Fan Mail

Ugh. Sorry this took so long... I was suffering from a nasty block. Instead of this story running through my mind, a short and sweet Sweeney Todd tale was taking over my brain. XD Anywaaaaaaays. Leave me reviews as to what you'd like to see in the package, because... I don't even know what it's gonna be yet XD

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- Chapter Five – Fan Mail -

We took the elevator back to my floor and proceeded to my room. Along the way, however, I bombarded Criss with questions and concerns, to which he replied to all of them with cool responses. How does he do it? I guess if you live your life doing crazy stunts like this all the time, you eventually get over the fear and uncertainty that comes with the dangerous demonstration package.

My trembling hands made it extremely difficult to get the flippin' key in the slot, but after a few tries I figured it out. I shoved the door open and flew to my bed where I landed spread eagle, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. Criss lazily made himself comfortable in one of the squashy armchairs that was set by the window.

"Aw come on, Mel." Criss complained. "There's nothing to be scared of. Nothing's going to happen that will harm you in any way."

"Ha ha, easy for you to say."

"It's the truth," he argued is a soft, calm voice.

I remained silent. As if on cue, my phone beeped, signaling me that there was a text message waiting. After rolling over and digging through my purse under the watchful eyes of my guest, I pulled my phone out and read the message. It was from my cousin Kim, AKA the bachellorette of the party. She gave me directions to some club I'd never heard of and a few words of advice when venturing out in Vegas.

"Well, damn," I said, irritated because of the stress and because of my lack of knowledge of the city.

"What now?" Criss caught on to my tone fast.

"Oh, the 'cous sent me directions to some place… Stellar, it's called."

"Stellar?" he questioned, thinking back to something. "Oh yeah, I know where that is. Let me take you!"

"What?"

"I can just drop you off, if you'd feel better that way."

"Thanks." I sighed, relief filling me.

After what happened last summer, I don't feel much like going clubbing with Criss. He can dump me off and then run back home to play with his box of magic tricks, then come back and haul my butt home.

Home.

You know, now that I think about it, my home life sucked after he left. I don't think I've bought a bag of Doritos since then, or rented movies. I still cautiously glance around corners and over couches, just to see if anyone if going to jump out and yell "Boo!", but no one ever does, because it's just me, myself, and I. But coming here made me feel complete again. Being in his home now, for some reason, just seems natural and unquestionable.

"Mel? Mel?" came a distant voice, "Can you hear me? Earth to Melanie!"

I snapped out of my mini daze to find that I was still lying on my bed, only this time Criss was standing right above me, looking down, calling my name.

"Sorry. Got lost in my thoughts," I confessed.

I could tell that he knew something other than the stunt was bothering me, but Criss chose the right path in not asking. As I lied there on the bed, I suddenly blurted out something that I had never given one thought about.

"Did you ever think of me?" I asked the ceiling.

Silence. "Yeah, I did." Criss answered softly.

"What things were you thinking of about me?"

"Oh, you know," he began, trailing off into thought. "How you were, what you might be up to, stuff like that."

"I see."

"Why?"

"Just curious," I replied flatly. "Hey, can you reach into my suitcase right there under your feet and grab my green jacket?"

Criss nodded and stretched down to get my bag. I watched him dig and poke around until his face twisted into a smile. I sat up quickly, wondering what he'd gotten into. Nothing too personal, I ruled out, because _those_ sorts of things were in another bag. As if he was reading my curiosity ridden mind, he pulled out a magazine. And not just any magazine, but the issue of DUB with him posing on his Rolls-Royce.

"Ohhhh, what do we have here?" he crooned, holding the glossy book up for me to see.

"Hey, that's not fair!" I shouted, jumping off the bed and reaching for the magazine. But Criss, being much taller, kept it out of my reach and began flipping through it.

"Oh wow," he began, looking at his article. "That guy's got some sweet rides."

"I know, right?"

Criss smiled crookedly and then tossed the magazine on the desk gently. He caught me in one armed hug and gave me a slight squeeze.

"Aw, you're so adorable!" he said, handing me my green jacket.

"Thanks?" I replied, not sure of what to say.

"So," Criss thought out loud, letting me go, "Which mode of transportation would you like to take tonight?"

"What're my options?"

"Anything from the Lambo to the go-karts. It's up to you."

"Oh yeah," I smirked sarcastically. "I'm sure I'll be hot showing up on a go-kart."

"You never know!" he added confidently.

"Maybe so…but I think I'd rather stay safe and go with the Viper. That's one sweet ride."

"You sure?" he finalized, "You strike me as the motorcycle type."

"Yeah, well, we'll save that for later" I planned, not even knowing what I was talking about.

"Yes, Ms. Evans."

I smirked and slipped into the jacket. Jeez, we still had the rest of the afternoon to do whatever our little hearts pleased. Ugh… this totally reminds me of one time in middle school when a friend and I sat in a tree house and had a chatting marathon that lasted about seven and a half hours. Those were the good 'ol days. Now you've got to be all grown up-ish about how you spend your time. Bo-ring.

"We've got hours to kill," I stated the obvious. "Let's go do something. Anything."

His phone started ringing as I was finishing my sentence. He held up a hand and mouthed "sorry".

"Talk to me," Criss boomed, turning around. "What? But I thought we only get those on Tuesdays. Oh… well, I'll be right down there. Yeah, she's here. Alright. Peace."

"What's only on Tuesdays?" I questioned curiously.

"Fan mail," he answered dully. "Don't get me wrong! I love letters and things from my fans, but there's usually so much that it's just delivered on Tuesdays and that's how I spend my time on those days."

"Ah." I understood. "I've always wanted to send you this thing I made, but I thought it might get lost in the mail."

"What is this "thing"?" he laughed.

"I'll show you later," I threw back. "I've got pictures of it on my Myspace. But don't you have somewhere to be right now?"

"Yeah, I've got to get down to the office to see this unusual package. Wanna come?"

"Not like I have anything else to do."

I scooped up my bag and smoothed out my shirt briskly. Criss patiently waited with his hands in his pockets while I hurriedly fixed up. As soon as I deemed myself decent enough to be seen by the public, we left the room together. On my floor, we passed by a small group of teenage girls staring at us like we were on display in the Ripley's Believe It or Not! Museum. One of them, who I noticed wearing the replica CA logo necklace, began to burst out in tears as we walked by. Her friends comforted her softly.

"That crying girl was Lorraine," Criss said, once out of earshot in the empty elevator.

"You know her?" I asked, curious.

"She's my personal stalker," he sighed. "Her parents run one of the hotel's clubs, so she's always around. Oh, did you by any chance notice that she's obsessed with me?"

I giggled. "Only a little. But what was with the waterworks?"

"I haven't the foggiest."

"Fantastic work, Mr. Angel," I joked in an overly fake tone, "Breaking girls' hearts. What else do you do?"

"Hey, don't look at me like that. I don't know what her problem was," Criss shrugged, escorting me out of the golden box. "But I'll bet you my chopper collection that she'll be popping up soon."

"Nice."


	6. When Will I See You Again?

I'M BACK FROM THE DEAD. It's been, what, 2 or 3 years? I must say, my writing style has improved immensely, and you'll notice a change after this chapter. :P Sorry for the wait, but please enjoy the new chapter!

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- Chapter Six – When Will I See You Again? –

The production office was buzzing with ringing phones and busy printers while people rushed around. As soon as we walked in, a stressed lady tied up in a phone conversation pointed at a door towards the back of the room by a few filing cabinets. I followed Criss back there, being careful not to get in the way of the staff shuffling about. Jeez, Criss should invest in a larger workspace for these guys.

"Hang on," Criss blurted, "This door doesn't go to the mail room. It goes to the private garage!"

"Private garage?"

"Yeah, it's where we keep a few things, like props and such still in the design stages and miscellaneous things that they need easy access to from the office in there. Why would a package be in there?"

We made our way through a labyrinth of white walls and dingy tile. I was exhausted by the time we finally reached a door marked 'GARAGE—MFP'. Criss opened the door and we descended into the musty darkness of the store room, fumbling around with no light. By luck, I somehow found a light switch and flipped it on, showering the dusty place in dim, yellowish light. Criss was right—this place was filled with junk. Over in one corner were some large, odd shaped figures covered in white sheets. Next to that, I saw tons of filing cabinets and extra office furniture collecting dust and mountains of cardboard boxes next to that.

But what really caught our eyes was a box, maybe six or seven feet in length and three feet wide, laying on the ground in a patch of sunlight streaming in from a sad excuse for a window. The box, no doubt strange and mysterious, was covered in all sorts of stickers and stamps from the post office. On one scrap of unstamped space we found an address; a Selene Barker from a town I'd never heard of in Ohio.

"Barker," Criss whispered, jogging his mind.

"Benjamin Barker?" I giggled, remembering the line from _Sweeney Todd_.

"Huh?" he replied, cocking an eyebrow and looking at me strangely.

"From a movie… I'll take you to go see it sometime."

"Whatever," Criss shrugged, "Well, I guess we should open it. Try and find a box cutter over there on those boxes."

I went over to the indicated area. All I could really see was dust and cardboard, but after some digging and shifting I located a faded yellow box cutter. It was wedged back in a strange corner, making me crouch down to reach it. Ugh, I swear… they really need to clean this place up a bit. The dust and grime in here is absolutely disgraceful! I might need to locate the nearest biohazard center…

"Yo, Mel!" Criss yelled. "You get lost or something?"

I jumped up, knocking a few boxes over loudly. Hope there wasn't anything breakable in there!

"Yeah, sorry, I got stuck in the pigsty of a neglected cleaning job."

I tossed him the cutter, to which he caught without even looking. Classy. Criss pushed the razor up and began hacking on the side of the box while I held it steady, both of us uncertain as to what we might find lurking inside. Once the top was off, we shifted the box down to where it would rest on its long side and began stripping cardboard away to reveal a sea of packing peanuts. I tossed a few at Criss's bent head, getting a scowl in return. Giggling, I went back to raking peanuts out.

"What the hell is this?" Criss boomed, the funniest look of shock and bewilderment on his face.

"Holy shit, Batman!" I exclaimed upon seeing the contents, laughing hysterically

"Mel? What is it?" Criss asked, groveling for light to be shed.

"It-it's…" I stammered through bouts of giggles, tears rolling out of my eyes. "It's paper-mache!

We stared at each other in disbelief. There before us lied a life size Criss Angel, and I mean really big, not the sort of thing you'd find in your normal high school art class. He was dressed in paper-mache Affliction garb and even had glittery chains around his neck, sending sparkles around the room. The face was just weird, sort of disturbing, but really funny at the same time.

"I'm not gonna lie," I laughed, shaking my head, "That thing is creepy."

"Yeah, tell me about it!"

"Look," I pointed towards a hot pink envelope, "There's a letter with your name on it."

He grumbled and swiped the pink nightmare up. Inside of it was an equally neon shade of green, quite eye catching. He began to read aloud:

_Dear Criss,_

_Hi, my name is Selene and I'm fifteen! I live in Ohio… really far away from you =( But I just wanted to let you know that you are the coolest guy ever and you are my idol! In art class we were working on this neat project where we had to turn someone into a life size paper-mache creation, and as everyone knew, I chose you! I really like it, and I hope you do, too! Please come visit Ohio sometime? I want to meet you so bad!_

_Yours forever and ever,_

_Loyal Selene_

"Wow." I managed to blurt, my eyebrows high.

"Well, then," Criss said, stuffing the paper back into the envelope, "What on earth am I supposed to do with this?"

"I don't know… it's really really creepy. Maybe you should keep it here?"

"Maybe."

We stood in silence for a few moments, until Criss began laughing behind his hand. Now, being a passionate lover of art, I found this idea of a gift to be very original. From a normal person's point of view, however, the figure was just downright awkward, sort of like those creepy baby dolls with the huge eyes.

"Hey Criss," I purred, batting my eyelashes at him, "Do you trust me?"

He gave me a quizzical look and furrowed his eyebrows together.

"Y-yes, why?"

"Good!" I responded, pulling the monstrosity out of the sea of peanuts. "Quit lollygagging and grab one end of this monster."

"What on earth are you planning on doing with this?" Criss asked, holding up the bottom half of the figure while I held the head.

"We're gonna move it to a more comfortable and appropriate place," I answered, leading us out of the garage. "This place isn't fit for art this epic."

I'm pretty sure that Criss finally accepted my unconventional means of thinking, because he was silent on our way through the tiny office and into the lobby. People stopped to stare at the trophy we held in our hands and began talking quickly to one another. Criss and I kept straight faces as we climbed into a vacant elevator. As soon as the doors closed, we both let out a burst of laughter at the awkwardness. Paper Mache Criss was posed like a Ken doll—all rigid and stiff, which added to the hilariousness. Criss mimicked him and his dumb facial expression, which brought only more gut-busting howls from me.

The elevator dinged on the top floor, and Criss and I deftly carried out our new friend. Criss seemed slightly confused, probably because we were on his floor. The doors that led to his regal lair were before us.

"Alright, leave him here," I instructed, leaning Paper Mache Criss on the wall by the door.

"And just give me one good reason why I should let you leave that on my doorstep?"

"To ward off bad spirits," I said, flashing him a flirty smile.

"Mel, Mel, Mel," Criss muttered, "What am I gonna do with you?"

"Well for one," I insisted, turning my back to the magician, "You're gonna let me go downstairs so that I can wander around for a bit."

As I stepped into the elevator, a hand caught my wrist.

"When will I see you again?"


	7. Inner Dialogue

What? Two updates in one night! Yeah, this is just a sort of small "bridge" chapter. I decided to take a break form the light-hearted humor and delve into the darkness of Melanie's inner dialogue. Working on another chapter as we speak...

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- Chapter 7 –Inner Dialogue –

_When will I see you again?_

The words resonated through my mind like church bells in a bell tower. I've been lying on my bed for the past half hour contemplating life. Curtains drawn and cell phone off, I couldn't stop thinking about him and the way he reached out for my arm as if… as if he didn't want me to go.

How much did he care for me?

This is silly, I told myself. He's a celebrity with professional things in his life, not to mention he's like, seventeen years older than me. Plus, we've only known each other for a short while, and I'm only here for the weekend!

But the look in his eyes when I was leaving…

Chivalry, I decided. He's just being chivalrous because I'm a young girl in a big city and I'm an easy target. He's probably just making sure nothing weird happens to me because…

Because why?

What am I to him? What are we, anyways? We're just two people who met under the strangest of circumstances and keep running into each other. I know a lot about him because I'm a huge fan, but at the same time, he knows plenty about me, too. So then if we're just friends... why does my stomach backflip when I see him?

I think I'm in love.

There's only one problem: every girl seems to be in love with Criss Angel. Every girl fawns over his perfectly sculpted body and fabulous hair. Every girl's heart melts when they see him holding his cat or playing with his trains. I'm just another one of those girls, except that I don't have to dream of what it would be like to spend a day with Criss Angel. And if he didn't want to spend time with me, he would have ditched me ages ago, right?

What is Criss Angel thinking?


End file.
